Winning
by corny sloth
Summary: "Why is it so important for you to win, James?" She asks him mischievously, lying down on her back and looking up at him through thick lashes. LilyJames. Drabbles
1. Chapter 1

The wind blew quietly through her hair as she sat back and looked up at the clear starlit sky, the feel of grass between her fingers and the sweet smell of spring awakening her senses. The Quidditch pitch was deserted at this time and she laid down in the middle of it, enjoying the quietness of the night.

"Evans?" She jumped up and looked around at the figure of James Potter standing a couple of meters away from her, his hair damp and his broomstick in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" She asked and he raised his eyebrows at her amusedly.

"Quidditch meeting ran late," He answered. "Don't you have patrols tonight?" He continued and she shrugged.

"I won't be missed. Students are so terrified of you, no one dares to sneak out anymore," She smiled. "Besides, it's the first clear night we've had in months. McGonagall will understand, don't you think?"

He smiled softly at her and nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to your contemplating then," He said, already pacing backwards.

"You're leaving?" She asked sarcastically. "James Potter is passing up an opportunity to spend a night under the stars with me? What have I missed?" She teased and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it," She added quickly. "Would you like to join me though? It'd be nice to have some company."

He looked at her curiously, his eyes dark and questioning, before throwing his broomstick on the ground and taking a seat next to her.

"How was Quidditch practice?" She asked and he smiled enquiringly at her.

"It was fine," He shrugged, his eyes fixated on her face.

"You know, you can talk to me, James. Even about Quidditch, really. I'm a good listener. And I do fancy a nice Quidditch match once in a while, even though I have an intense fear of flying."

He chuckled quietly and ran a hand through his hair again. "Well if you must know, I'm rather terrified I'm going to be murdered in my sleep. I'm so fixated on winning the cup that I'm making the team practice five times a week, sometimes until midnight," He said, a trite smile on his face and she laughed lightly, throwing her head back and his eyes slightly glazed out of focus.

"Why is it so important for you to win, James?" She asks him mischievously, lying down on her back and looking up at him through thick lashes.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's my last year. It'd be nice to win the cup before I leave."

She nodded softly. "And what are you planning to do after you leave?"

A grim look dawned on his face and he looked up at the sky for a minute. "Fight," He replied simply and she couldn't help the feel of awe and admiration that swept over her. She tentatively touched his arm and he looked down at her with a look of surprise, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Are you afraid?" He finally asked, and he almost sounded like a child.

"Yes," She answered and a look passed between them, of understanding and innocence and turmoil.

"You're a muggleborn. You should be." He spoke boldly and harshly, but she only nodded and closed her eyes.

His fingers brushed against her hand and she smiled and laced hers through his. "Your hand is warm," She whispered as he laid down next to her, their hands still entwined. "Will you let me fight with you?" She asked and there was a slight tremor in her voice and her hand shook in his.

He looked sideways at her, calm and sympathetic, his thumb tracing comforting circles against her wrist. "Yes," He muttered.

"You're a man of few words, James. You didn't used to be like this," She teased and he turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, completely facing her.

"I grew up," He replied simply, running his fingers through her hair and she closed her eyes and sighed softly.

"Are you happy?" She asked.

He chuckled lightly, deep and guttural and his eyes were dark and she couldn't look away from his face. "Right now? I am," He replied

She shook her head amusedly and slightly moved closer to him, turning on her side as well. "Why are you happy right now?" She whispered.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're such an eloquent person, Lily. You didn't used to be like this," He quipped and she giggled.

"I grew up," She muttered, running her hand along his arm, and softly planting a kiss on his cheek. "Tell me something. Something about yourself," She continued and he hesitated. "It doesn't have to be the 'if I tell you, I have to kill you' type of something. Just something not many people know about you. Something you're not comfortable discussing with anyone."

"Why do you want that?" He asked and she shrugged lightly.

"I want to be the person you can talk to. I want you to feel comfortable with me," She beamed.

He was quiet and observant for a moment before he held her hand again and licked his lips. "I feel sorry for Severus Snape."

There was a moment of awkward silence as she looked at him, her green eyes huge and wondering. "Why? He doesn't deserve it." Her voice was quiet but he could tell he had hit a nerve when she finally looked away from his face.

"I think he loves you," He continued and she shook her head. "A guy can tell."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. He chose what side he wants to be on. If he really did love me, if he wanted to protect me, he wouldn't have chosen the bad one," Her voice shook and she sat up, turning her back to him. "You would protect me, wouldn't you?" She mumbled and he sat up as well, their shoulders touching as they stared ahead. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?"

He didn't reply, instead stood up, picked up his broom and walked away.

**A/N:**** This would probably be a multi-chapter fic. Not sure how many chapters or when the next update will be, but I promise to do my best to update as soon as possible.**

I wanted to try something different for once, a bit more dialogue, to show a deeper side to Lily and James' relationship, with a little less snogging (albeit, there _**will**_** be snogging, maybe something more). So leave me your thoughts, please. Lots of love.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Knight to E7."

She scowled as she watched Potter's Knight move closer to her Rook, before smashing the hell out of it. He snickered and ran a hand through his hair. "Your move, Evans."

She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat and threw him a glare . "You're awfully good at this." She paused. "Queen to E7," She continued, a grin slowly creeping up her lips. "Or maybe I'm just faking it." She giggled as her Queen banged her chair repeatedly onto his Knight's head.

It was his turn to glower. "Witch," He grumbled. "This game isn't over yet. I'm going to win," He stated.

"You seem awfully sure of yourself. Care to wager on it?" She asked, an eyebrow raised mischievously.

"Fine. If I win, I want your Charms notes for the rest of the year," He said and she smiled slowly.

"Deal. And if I win… I want you to take me out of a date," She retorted and he choked on the piece of scone he was eating. "Take it or leave it, Potter."

"That's emotional blackmail!" He exclaimed and she smirked. "It's either I win and lose the chance of a date with you, or I lose and win a date with you!"

"Well, you can't win at everything, can you?" She laughed as he ran his hand through his hair over and over again.

"Bloody Hell…" He grumbled, staring down at the chessboard. "Bloody fucking hell…"

"What's it going to be, Potter?" She asked.

He looked up defiantly into her glittering green eyes, his lips pursed, his hands slightly shaking. "Let's play," He finally said, cracking his fingers.

That night, for the first time of his life, James Potter lost at Wizard's Chess.

**A/N:**I know, I know, I'm terrible. It's been so long since the last chapter and the only excuse I have for not uploading sooner is incredible writer's block and lack of inspiration…  
So I've decided to turn this fic into a sort of drabble thing all having to do with winning (and James and Lily of course). They may or may not end up connected, I haven't decided yet, but they surely won't be linear. Next chapter should be up soon, I hope. Reviews are, as always, more than welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

The room is dark and smells funny.

"You lost," She states, creeping closer to his lying form on the bed. He groans in response. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't move when she sits on his bed and tentatively lays a hand on his back, his head buried in his pillow. He breathes deeply and slowly turns his head towards her. "What are you doing here?" He asks and she swallows.

"I was worried about you. Thought you'd come up here to kill yourself," She mumbles, rubbing comforting circles on his back, and his breathing becomes deeper.

"I've already killed myself. I've killed myself night and day training this godforsaken team…and this is how they repay me. My beater breaks one of chasers' arm, my other chaser can barely keep the fucking quaffle in his hand for longer than 10 seconds, and the seeker just lets the snitch pass by him!" His voice is muffled by the pillow but she could sense the rage flowing through his veins, his muscles quivering under her fingers.

"You need a better team," She states and he slowly turns around and lies on his back. He has a nasty contusion on his cheek and a gash on his forearm, and she's sure his ribcage must have been bruised because of the way he winced as he turned around. "You look like you're in pain."

He shakes his head. "I can take it. I've been worse," He states, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Thank you," He mutters, "for being here. I needed some company." She smiles lightly and runs a hand through his hair. "That feels nice," He mumbles, his eyes closed. "Lie down with me." He flinches as he shifts in his bed to make room for her.

They lie quietly for a while, his eyes still closed, his breathing slowly getting heavier, and she watches as he falls asleep, her fingers lightly brushing against the bruise on his cheek. Before she knows it, she falls asleep as well.

She wakes up the next morning to the sound of his roommates chattering animatedly. He's already awake and he puts a finger to his lips, motioning her to keep quiet. The curtains are drawn around his bed and she's grateful for it. The endless jibes and sexual innuendos she would have to endure from Sirius for the rest of her life if he ever saw her in James Potter's bed come to mind and she grimaces. What was she thinking falling asleep here?

James must have felt her distress so he puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a small smile, and some soft caresses on her arm, and she can't look away from his face.

Soon enough, his friends leave the room and she slowly gets up. "I should go," she whispers, rubbing tiredly at her eyes and trying to smooth out her wrinkled shirt.

"No, stay," He mutters, tugging at her arm and making her lie back down.

"I can't…what will people say if they saw me coming out of the boys' dormitory so early in the morning? I can't risk that…" She mumbles trying to get up again but he keeps a firm grip on her.

"You're worried about your reputation, is that it? I can get you out of here unseen; you don't have to worry about that. But if it's something else you're concerned about; maybe about what this might mean to you?" His eyes were so dark and smothering and she swallows thickly. His fingers run along her ribcage and she shivers slightly. "I want to kiss you," He states, his warm body sliding closer to hers, "You have no idea how badly I want to… but you say the word and I'll let you go."

Her mind is racing, and her heart is in her throat and her fingers are numb as they slide up to his face, feeling the slight stubble graze her skin. She nods frenziedly, grabbing the front of his shirt to bring his face closer to hers. His lips were dry as they touch hers, sliding awkwardly yet surely.

"Open your mouth," He groans and she immediately complies, his tongue sliding into her warm mouth, touching hers and making shivers run down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention. A soft sigh escapes her lips and he deepens the kiss, grabbing her face and running his hands through her hair. She feels she's drowning in fire, her entire body is scorching hot and when she feels how hard he is against her thigh she almost stops breathing.

The kiss gradually slows down, becoming chaster, gossamer touches of the lips, and their breathing calms as he pulls away, rubbing his nose against hers, and all he can think about is how he had to lose at Quidditch to win Lily.


End file.
